HARD ROAD
DEADLY HORIZON
the DARK PLAGUE series
Bradley West
To my wife Lai Fan
and our friend John
Table of Contents
Cast of Major Characters
Map of the 3M Convoy’s Route
HARD ROAD
Prologue
1. Shadow Boxing
2. Peace Pipe Dream
3. Sacrificial Lamb
4. Fresh Starts
5. Back From the Grave
6. Under New Management
7. Dark Thoughts
8. Science Friction
9. Rising Tensions
10. Siege Mentality
11. First Blood
12. Jailbreak
13. Double Jeopardy
14. Snapped Decision
15. Berzerkeley
16. The Oasis
17. Karma Chameleon
18. New Beginnings
19. Paired Up
20. BFF
21. Skipping Towns
22. Road Kills
23. Catch as Catch Can
24. Prey Species
26. D-Day
27. Divide and Conquer
28. Frontier Justice
29. Unfriendly Takeovers
30. Showdowns
31. Sunday Bloody Sunday
32. Demolition Derby
33. Let’s Deal
34. The Searchers
35. Cat and Mouth
36. A Hill to Die On
37. Death Valley
38. Gambits
39. A Last Turn of the Wheel
40. A Hard Road
Acknowledgments
About the Author
A Favor: Please Leave a Review
Dark Plague Trilogy
End of Lies: Chapters One-to-Four
Praise for Bradley West’s Novels
Copyright and Disclaimer
Cast of Major Characters
Maggio Clan
Sal Maggio: former senior biotech executive, architect of “the manned mission to Mars” (“3M”) convoy headed to “Thunderdome” in northern Canada, and leader of the extended Maggio family
Pat Maggio: wife of Sal and mother of Stephanie and Barb.
Stephanie Ferguson (nee Maggio): elder daughter of Sal and Pat Maggio, wife of Greg Ferguson and mother of Tyson. Leader of the pacifist movement inside the 3M.
Barb Maggio: younger daughter of Sal and Pat Maggio, partner of Jaime Gonzalez and regenerative agriculture consultant
Carla Maggio: research bioengineer and former team leader at a secret Biosafety Level-4 lab based at Livermore Labs. One of the very few who can mix both the 896MX adjuvant (vaccine) and the convalescent plasma “Dark Cure” treatments for Covid-20.
Travis Ryder: Former DEA officer and Navy SEAL. Head of 3M security and leader of the militant 3M faction. Carla Maggio’s suitor.
Jaime Gonzalez: USMC combat veteran (Iraq and Syria), Mexico-born and partner of Barb Maggio
Arkar: former Burma commando and Travis Ryder’s friend and employee. Husband of Zarni and father of son Yonten, and adoptive parent of orphaned Kyaw and Schway.
Johnny Gratton: former USMC combat colleague of Jaime Gonzalez, ace mechanic, car thief and motorcyclist
Derek Strub: car ferry captain and handyman; father of Erinn and Tom.
Melvin Robinson: 101st Airborne Afghanistan veteran and formerly a kidnap team member.
Greg Ferguson: husband of Stephanie and Tyson’s father
Dr. Tina Francisco: research scientist at Livermore and medical doctor of the 3M
Dr. Mona Almeida: pediatric neurologist, Las Vegas
Tyson Ferguson: newborn son of Stephanie and Greg Ferguson
Marauders
Rolf Muller: former US Spec Ops commander, ex-head of Black Ice (military contractors) San Francisco office, rogue operator and leader of the kidnap and pursuit team
Dr. Katerina Kiel: former star gymnast, Stanford PhD in biology dedicated to making and selling the Dark Cure. Muller’s and Burns’ love interest
Fraser Burns: Sal Maggio’s English expatriate former boss, owner of the stolen 896MX Covid vaccine and sworn foe of the Maggio clan
Mike Norris: Leader of the Twisted Souls Motorcycle Club including Dirty Pete, sergeant at arms, Bailey, Boner, Kurt, Nails, Specs and Stenner
Map of the 3M Convoy’s Route
HARD ROAD
Bradley West
Prologue
DARK PLAGUE: THE STORY THUS FAR
EARLY JULY 2020
Covid-19 and then Covid-20 ravage the planet. San Francisco–based biotech executive Sal Maggio plans to resettle his extended family in a safe haven in northern Canada. A researcher from Sal’s company shares her proto-treatment that cures his nearly dead infected pregnant daughter and her child. Sal’s ex-boss, Fraser Burns, conspires to bankrupt the company via arson in return for the drug’s ownership. Sal refuses to relinquish the last of the miracle adjuvant or its formula.
Burns hires rogue operator Rolf Muller and ex-soldiers who kidnap Sal’s grandson to trade for the adjuvant treatment. Burns’ infertile, unstable wife claims the baby boy as her own and flees. Covid-20 kills her and infects Burns, leaving the baby under the mercenaries’ control. Katerina Kiel, a psychopathic biologist hired by Burns but now loyal to Muller, uses the infant’s blood to save the former CEO. This act proves that the baby’s blood, plasma, and antibodies can be converted into a commercial treatment. The abductors put the Dark Cure for sale on outlaw websites with the expectation of a multimillion-dollar payday. Then the kidnappers seize the new mother since she represents a bigger blood bag than her newborn. One of the mercenaries switches to Sal’s side, unable to stomach more violence against innocents. Meanwhile, Covid-20 burns across the globe and anarchy threatens to engulf civilization.
The kidnappers prepare to manufacture the Dark Cure from their hideaway in an abandoned Oakland high school. In parallel, Sal’s scientist niece Carla and her team break out of a government lab where they’ve been forced to research Covid-20. Sal helps his niece and her team secure the equipment they need to replicate the miracle treatment independently.
Sal’s family blames him for the kidnappings and unsuccessful rescue attempts that have left their members incapacitated and loved ones still captives. Sal stubbornly accelerates departure preparations with or without his daughter and grandson: either they go and some retain a chance of survival, or they stay and all die. At the last moment, the rescue team finds the boobytrapped school holding the mother and baby. Sal is feet away from his daughter and grandson when he suffers a heart attack, leaving them to die inside a freezer. With a final burst of energy, he frees them and collapses. The rescuers fight their way through a mob to board a car ferry and escape with the rest of their group.
The hostage rescue killed half the mercenaries and forced them into an unholy alliance with a motorcycle gang. Sal’s “manned mission to Mars” (“3M”) extended family has grown to twenty-one who now face an 1,800-mile overland journey through a lawless US and Canada. Dark Cure: A Covid Thriller concludes with the enlarged and enraged kidnap gang setting out to pursue an undermanned convoy full of wounded people.
The stage is set for Hard Road: Deadly Horizon (book two) and The Haven (book three) in the Dark Plague trilogy
CHAPTER ONE
Shadow Boxing
Thursday, July 16, 2020: Emigrant Trail, California-Nevada state line outside Gardnerville-Minden Nevada, early morning
Twenty-one people in the tongue-in-cheek “Manned Mission to Mars” (“3M”) comprised the C
anada-bound caravan. The 3M’s four vehicles were parked on the shoulder less than a mile from the California-Nevada state line. The leaders met seated on the floor of one of two blacked-out Winnebagos.
Sal Maggio had suffered a one-two punch earlier in the night—a major heart attack and a bullet-splintered left forearm. He lay unconscious in a Winnebago’s back bedroom. Former SEAL Travis Ryder was the convoy’s military leader, and given Sal’s state, temporarily held the reins of the entire 3M. He summarized the just-returned scouting parties’ reports: “The Nevada border crossing at Route 88 is unguarded in both directions. Meanwhile, Foothill Road—a two-lane backroad—is blocked by a semi and at least two guards at the border. Something’s not right.”
Carla Maggio, Sal’s niece and on-the-run Livermore Labs bioweapons research scientist, ventured a guess: “Maybe the National Guard was called away from the highway. We need to cross before they return or it gets light.” The other attendees supplied a smattering of approving murmurs.
“The Guard’s stretched thin everywhere and the pandemic’s killing everyone in sight,” Travis replied. “I’m guessing it’ll be locals-only.”
“Before Sal passed out,” Carla reminded them, “he told us to bribe, not shoot, our way through checkpoints. I have fifty thousand in a gym bag. Let’s drive across and pay off anyone who wants to stop us.”
“I agree with Travis,” former USMC Marine and Juárez native Jaime Gonzalez interjected. “Route 88 is a setup. I say we go up the country road, take out the two sentries, and move that semi off the road or go around it.”
“Shooting our way through will be risky,” Travis said. “If one of our Winnebagos or our supply truck just gets a flat, we’re in deep shit.”
“We’ve only got four or five unwounded men left,” Carla said. “We can’t afford a gunfight. Put white flags on broomsticks, hold them out the windows, and drive slowly up the main road. If anyone armed steps out, we show them the money. If it’s an ambush, we have the firepower to power through.”
“We should run this past Sal if he can talk,” Travis said. “One way or another, we’ll move out in five, so jock up and let the sentries know we’re rolling.” Travis rose tentatively to his feet, slowed by shrapnel wounds to his abdomen and left shoulder. Carla followed him as they felt their way down the narrow aisle to the bedroom.
Dr. Tina Francisco was tending to Sal and his injured wife, Pat. “How’s everyone?” Travis whispered to her.
“Pat’s asleep and my heart is stable, but my arm is a mess,” Sal replied, his voice slurred by sedatives. “Why did we stop? What’s going on?”
“We pulled over a half-hour ago and sent out two groups to surveil the border crossing. Foothill Road is barely two lanes, yet it has a big rig blocking it and at least two armed men on duty. The main road into Gardnerville-Minden is Route 88 and it appears to be wide open. I smell an ambush. Carla suggests we take the convoy up eighty-eight and try to bribe our way across if someone stops us. What do you think?”
“What have the roads been like since we left?”
“Inland from Berkeley, abandoned vehicles and people lined the roads for maybe ten miles. After that, it thinned out,” Travis said.
“The last fifty miles have been spooky,” Carla said. “Just a few vehicles on the roads, no police, and scattered abandoned cars. It’s like the people running away didn’t make it even this far.”
“Covid-20 hit this neck of the woods hard,” Travis added. “From the number of fat coyotes trotting up and down the highways, no one’s even collecting bodies.”
Sal paused for a moment. “The backroad is blocked while the highway is open? That’s illogical. Travis, what do you think?”
“We send the Telluride with a driver and two shooters lying low up Route 88 flying a white flag. As bait put the two RVs and the truck in motion two hundred meters behind the SUV. I guess that any ambushers will let the Telluride pass in the hopes that the RVs follow. As soon as the Telluride passes the pinch point or sees trouble, floor it. At the same time, stop the ’Bagos, pull the white whale across the road in front of them as a shield, and reverse the RVs until they’re out of range. Whoever’s driving the whale needs to get out of the cab because he’ll be a target. Once the RVs disappear, they’ll stop shooting. Maybe we’ll get lucky and retrieve the supply truck.”
“That’ll split us in two,” Carla objected. “And we’ll probably lose all our food and spare fuel. What good does that do?”
“If there’s no ambush, we all drive up Route 88 and everything’s great,” Travis said. “But if someone’s waiting, our people and RVs will be safe. We’ll play it by ear if the white whale is shot up. We can find another truck more easily than we can find two giant motorhomes.”
“If it’s a trap, the ambushers will follow us,” Carla said.
“Probably,” Travis said. “We have to reply with enough accurate fire to change their minds. The SUV will be through and can neutralize the Foothill Road blockade from the rear if they cut across. We take them by surprise, move the semi or clear a path around, and get our RVs through. We’ll be gone before the bushwhackers can regroup.”
“This makes sense,” Sal said. Tina fed him a cup of water, half of which dribbled out of the corners of his barely elevated mouth. “Drive until just before sunrise and lay up under cover or at least away from major roads. Don’t forget to test everyone in the convoy every day for Covid.” He fell back and was asleep in seconds.
Tina shook her head. “We have fewer than sixty test kits left. In three days, we’ll be out.”
“If I had even a day in a clean environment with electricity and refrigeration,” Carla said, “I could synthesize enough vaccines to immunize everyone.”
“That’s a discussion for another time,” Travis said. “We have to move while it’s still dark. Otherwise, our caravan will be wiped out—and not by Covid-20.”
* * * * *
Travis limped up and down the line of vehicles, confirming assignments and outlining contingencies. Former Spec Ops sergeant Johnny Gratton joined Jaime alongside former Burma commando Arkar, a 5'6" (1.68m) forty-two-year-old who was the most capable soldier Travis had ever worked with. Travis would pilot the blue ’Bago 42-Horizon, the 3M’s mobile hospital, while Tien would handle the ’Bago 38 Forza sleeper vehicle. Captain Derek Strub had volunteered for the riskiest job, driving the twenty-two-foot white whale supply truck. A quick comms check confirmed that the walkie-talkies worked. The 3M mounted up and engines rumbled to life.
Johnny rolled north on Route 88 at the pre-agreed thirty mph rate, a white tee shirt fluttering from a mop handle poked out the window. Travis waited until the Telluride passed the largely unmarked border and started the Horizon. Beside him sat Tom Strub, a mid-twenties former deckhand on his father’s car ferry. Travis had told Tom that he was now a 3M infantryman and handed him an M-4 carbine.
Johnny’s head was at a tennis match as he looked for signs of life on either side of the darkened road. In the back of the crawling SUV, Arkar peeked over the left-side window with his night-vision goggles powered up with an M-4 in hand. “Men on left!” Arkar hissed.
“Men and vehicles on the right,” said Jaime, his counterpart on the other side. “It’s a trap!” Arkar and Johnny each dropped a tire-shredding spike strip out their respective windows.
“Keep cool, keep cool,” Johnny said as he accelerated. Clicking the Motorola radio’s handset, he intoned, “Bandits, bandits on both sides. Abort, abort.” He dropped his walkie-talkie, cut the lights, and floored it. The expected fusillade started, but none of it was aimed in their direction. After a quarter-mile sprint, Johnny slammed on the brakes. “Let’s see what’s going on.” His two companions with night-vision optics exited with weapons at the ready and he followed. In the distance, the firing increased to a crescendo with occasional red tracers signaling that their team was still in the fight.
“We have to go back and hit their flank to take the pressure off our people,” Johnn
y said, turning back to the SUV.
“Travis said we go back road,” Arkar said as he stepped in front of the former Iraq Spec Ops soldier.
A newcomer to the 3M, Johnny didn’t know that he was speaking to Travis’s top man. He moved to shoulder past the former Burma commando when Jaime interjected: “Arkar’s right. We stick to the plan. Travis will take care of his end.”
* * * * *
A half-mile to the south, young Tom and younger Yonten demonstrated that fall deer hunting (in Tom’s case) or weekends at the range (in Yonten’s) could translate into accurate fire even with incoming rounds snapping past. The two spike strips shredded a pursuing Humvee and pickup’s tires. With both vehicles soaking up multiple hits from the young men’s M-4s, their occupants were slow to extract themselves and take up firing positions. By the time the seven men had begun to return fire with their AR-15s, there was nothing left to shoot at as the RVs had disappeared and the panel truck was on the move as well. Their mad minute of firing was a waste of ammunition.
Travis checked in with his fellow drivers: “Derek, are you and the boys okay? How’s the truck?”
“We’re all good. A few through the windshield, but no damage to the engine block.”
“Carla, everyone okay?”
“I’m not used to using only side mirrors and going thirty miles (fifty kilometers) an hour backward in the dark,” Carla volunteered. “I almost had a heart attack when I nearly swerved off the road.”
“Johnny? Where are you?”
“Parked three hundred meters east of the big semi off Mottsville Lane. Jaime and Arkar are on the prowl. What happened?”
“The spike strips took out the tires on their two pursuit cars,” Travis said. “We laid down suppressing fire and our rigs were out of harm’s way in less than a minute. We pulled off up Fairview Lane. Melvin and Derek have eyes on the semi and the guards. Between them, they should spot anyone moving south. We have a sentry posted behind us on Fairview and Foothill to the south to cover our six. I’ll do a walkaround once it’s light and inspect for damage. Over.”