R. Ruggiero - Brushfire Plague

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Brushfire Plague: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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The Brushfire Plague made the Spanish Flu Pandemic of 1918 look like a case of the common cold.
When a virulent plague erupts across the globe, Cooper Adams faces a daily battle for survival as society unravels at a dizzying pace. As he organizes his neighbors for self-defense and strives to save those around him, he soon discovers the first clues about the origin of the Brushfire Plague that is killing untold millions around the world. In his pursuit to learn the truth, Cooper must combat looters, organized gangs, and those protecting the Brushfire Plague’s secrets. When his son falls ill, his search to uncover the plague’s origin and a possible cure transforms into a race against time. Ultimately, Cooper faces a paralyzing choice between exposing what he has learned with potentially shattering consequences, or abetting a horrible secret and giving his nation a chance to recover and rebuild.
Surviving the Plague was just the beginning…
Brushfire Plague

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“You got him. Jesus Christ, you got him!”

Cooper could see that he had rolled onto his back, his right hand clutching his left shoulder. The woman was already rapidly crawling away from him. Without waiting, Cooper stood halfway up, took precise aim at the man’s mid-section and fired two more rounds in quick succession. With each impact, the man’s body bounced up a few inches off the ground before settling back to the asphalt. Then, he lay motionless.

The other man, dressed in police-style gear, tossed his pistol several yards in front of where he lay and raised his hands in surrender. The one with the wounded leg mimicked him.

Peter raised his rifle to draw a bead on him. Cooper lowered the rifle barrel with his left hand.

“No, we don’t kill in cold blood.”

“We can’t just let these animals go. They’ll do it again.”

“Maybe. We’ll have to take that chance. But, we can’t become them. Besides, they’re going home with two dead and the third wounded. Hopefully, they’ll learn a lesson. Besides, we aren’t done with them yet.” A sly grin spread across his face.

“Whatdya mean?” Freddie asked.

Just then, Mark came running up, bolt-action hunting rifle in hand. He was panting, out of breath. Sweat covered his face, which was red from exertion.

Cooper nodded to him, “You’re just in time. You two go down there. First, make sure they are disarmed. Do a full pat down as the other covers. Then, make the guy with the police clothes strip down. We’ll take that tactic away from them. Take their shoes and make them march until they are out of your sight. Then, bring the Jeep back to Fort Prudence. By then, others will have come and you put them on the barricade. Help the two women if they want it, but don’t force it. They’ve just been through a major trauma. Mark can cover you from here with the scoped rifle.”

“What are you gonna do?” Peter asked.

“Try to round up the woman who ran away and make sure she’s OK. You guys got it?”

They both nodded. The trio moved out in two different directions. Cooper wanted to catch up with the woman who had moved down Division Street. He didn’t want her wandering through the city after such a violent attack.

Cooper sprinted down the side street that led to Division. He chose the speed that was just below sprinting, a pace he could keep up for a while. He carried his rifle in his arms, swinging it slightly to each side for balance, as he ran. His lungs churned like bellows as sweat began beading down his face.

When he reached Division, he turned toward his right. Without much trouble, he saw her thirty yards up the road, walking with a stumbling gait. From this vantage point, she looked as if she were drunk, pitching from one edge of the sidewalk to the other. Cooper silently and quickly walked until he was within about ten yards and then stopped. He knew if he approached too closely, she might take off in a blind run.

“Ma’am, you forgot something,” he called. He’d read somewhere that when dealing with those in panic, a familiar, habitual phrase could often work in breaking them out of it.

She stopped, unsteady on her feet. Then, she turned back around to face him, “What did you say?”

Despite the dirt streaks on her face, her disheveled hair, and her wrinkled business attire, she was a strikingly beautiful woman. He noticed her eyes first. They were large, dark, deep pools of brown. Her lips were full and she had a round, friendly, open face. Her hair was shoulder length and as black as night. It almost glowed, the sheen was so high. She was short, a few inches over five feet. Underneath her clothing, he could see her thin, athletic build. In various places, her toned muscles tone pushed up against her clothing. Her breasts were medium in size. A long black coat was unbuttoned and flapped lazily behind her in the stiff breeze. For a moment, he was sure he had met her before, but couldn’t place where.

“I said you forgot something back there,” Cooper responded.

Her eyes were alert now, sizing him up. The daze had faded. “What’s that?”

“You forgot to say thank you,” he said, hoping she would get the joke.

A smile spread across her face, revealing ivory, gleaming white teeth. “Oh, did I? Well, thank you, Mr. Sheriff, and hats off to your fine deputies.”

He shouldered his rifle, took a few steps closer, and extended his hand, “Name’s Cooper. Cooper Adams. I just wanted to make sure you were OK.”

She took several steps to meet him halfway and extended her hand, “Julianne Wheeler.”

He took it and shook her hand lightly, a quizzical look on her face, “Do we know each other?” He was sure he recognized her name, but couldn’t place it.

She smiled coyly, “I don’t think so. I live in the Northeast part of town. But, I’m certainly glad I met you today!” Cooper smiled at that. Her voice turned serious, “Thank you for your help back there. I don’t want to think what might have happened.”

“What did happen?”

Her eyes misted over and her voice choked with emotion, “It was crazy. I was at the grocery store, which was completely chaotic, but I made it through. I was on my way back to my car when that Jeep pulled into the parking lot. I was the first one they tried to grab. It was like a damned rodeo. They just drove through going after a group of us until they had us cornered. No one did a damned thing to help us, including some worthless armed security guard at the store’s entrance.” She spat the last words, bitterness dripping from them. “Finally, a woman saved us,” she said, crying. Cooper waited for her to go on.

“She pulled up next to us and yelled at us to jump in. We did and barely got away. Then, they kept chasing us, halfway across town, until she crashed back there.”

Cooper put his hand on her shoulder, “I’m sorry. Some people are going crazy with the rule of law breaking down. Why don’t you come back into our neighborhood? As you can see, we have organized security. It’s getting late for you to try to walk home, unless you’re nearby.”

Her eyes met his once again. Up this close, they were stunning. He could feel her sizing him up, as her eyes bored into him. “OK. Yes, thank you. No, I’m not close. Neither is my car.”

“Great. It’s just a block up. You’re safe now.”

His last words had a dramatic effect on her. Her eyes filled with tears and she clutched her hand to cover her mouth. Sobbing quickly wracked her body and she began shaking. She grew unsteady on her feet and Cooper quickly stepped in to support her, throwing an arm around her waist. He guessed it was post-traumatic release. She pulled him in close to her and buried her face into his chest. Her grip was fierce, causing him to wince as she squeezed hard on his ribs. Yes, she’s athletic alright. Cooper had comforted other soldiers in Iraq after firefights or ambushes, but this was very, very different.

He put his arms around her and softly stroked her back in circles. “It’s OK. It’s OK,” he constantly repeated, whispering softly into her ear. She eased her grip to a firm, but no longer painful, hug. He could feel her breath, panting hot on his chest.

“Take a deep breath, breathe in.”

He was relieved when she followed his instruction. Slowly, her breath slowed down and her grip eased. She pulled away from him to speak, her eyes looking at his chest.

“I’m sorry for that. I’m not used to breaking down like that. I don’t know what happened,” she said, her voice breaking up, and quickly wiping tears away from her cheeks.

“It’s OK. It’s very common. You just went through a traumatic ordeal. You survived it by not letting your emotions in. Now, they’ll come up when it’s safe to do so. Don’t feel bad about it.”

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