Muster

by Christoff Orr

  The elevator was one of the first things put in during the renovation of the silo, allowing the workers to go from the ground floor, all the way down to the working area in a matter of seconds. After the quick plunge into the Hole, Tucker reached the bottom, where the elevator dinged and the doors opened. Right away he was greeted by the smell and the sounds that were a constant resident of his new home.

  The smell wasn’t afoul, he had definitely smelled worse during his life, but it was the uniqueness of it that made it so suffocating at times. For the most part, after about a minute or two of returning down below, you would no longer even notice the order. It was a smell that was hard to describe. All of the residents, over one hundred and fifty, counting security, lab subjects, and staff, plus enough supplies to stay submerged for the next century, was all processed through air scrubbers, thus giving the smell a stale ting to it. Though it wasn’t the smell that really bothered him, at least not as much as the sounds. The never-ending cries from the experimental rooms, where work was done on the nearly hundred lab subjects.

  Tucker walked down the long bland hallway towards his lab. It wasn’t the smell, and even the noise could be blocked out by a pair of noise-canceling headphones, it was the lack of personality that really bummed him out when he was down in the Hole. All the floors were polished cement, and all of the walls were cinderblock painted in a light tan color. Everything looked the same under the ever-present LED lighting. There were miles of corridors, thousands of square feet of office space, residential space and common areas, but they all looked the same. There was a complete lack of personality, even the workspaces were void of a personal touch.

  “Afternoon Tucker,” a familiar and friendly voice called out.

  Tucker quickly looked up from the floor, where he had been watching absentmindedly his feet walk upon the polish concert flooring. There he saw one of his few true friends in the Hole. “Hi, Dr. Amy!” He eagerly replied.

  Dr. Amy, or just Amy as she preferred, was the head Phycologist onsite and had been with the program nearly as long as the Dr. Klaus had. She always had a smile on her face, and to be honest, she was the most beautiful woman down in the Hole. She stood at over six feet tall, as thin as a rail, had straight blond hair and captivating gray eyes. She had a mannerism about herself that instantly called for respect as well as admiration. Before the lights went off, she could have had her pick of vocations, as well as husbands. For reason only known to her, she had chosen to work for the King and then had chosen to stay with Dr. Josef Klaus aka Dr. Death.

  Amy stood there a moment, her white lab coat hung straight down on her thin frame, her blond hair pulled back and up into a tight bun, and a teal silk scarf was wrapped around her neck. The scarf was an ever-present accessory to her wardrobe, not so much as for fashion, but to cover up the rope burn she had suffered when she attempted to hang herself after the lights went out. She never talks about it and does her best to cover it up, but you can’t live in such a confined space and keep such secret hidden for long. “How is the weather up there?” She asked with a smile.

  “Nice,” Tucker quickly replied. “Can’t see the sun though, but there is a nice breeze. A little cold, but it's a nice reminder that I’m still alive.”

  Amy nodded in agreement, “That is always important.” She then tilted her head some as she thought. The moment caused the silk scarf to shift enough to expose the upper portion of the scar around her neck. Nearly instantly she realized the mistake and straightened back up, as she raised her hand to pull at the edge of the scarf, covering the scar back up. She let out an awkward chuckle, then replied, “I don’t think I’ve been up top for almost two weeks now.”

  “Wow!” Tucker blurted out, “You really should, even if just a moment. I would go crazy in here without going up for my breaks. Plus I heard that the sun helps with your skin.” He said. Then without even really thinking he added, “Not that you need any help with our skin. It always looks great.” As soon as he heard his own words, he realized what an idiot he sounded like. He tried to play it off cool as he folded his arms and added, “Ha, you know, just saying, um…”

  As always, Amy smiled politely, as she answered, “I will definitely keep that in mind. Maybe one day soon I’ll join you on one of your breaks and you can better explain to me the medical advantages of the sun and its warming rays.” She then patted Tucker on his shoulder as she walked on towards her desired destination.

  Tucker turned and watched as she walked away. The clicking sound of her high healed shoes upon the polished floor soon was quickly absorbed by the ambient sounds of the Hole. He watched as her lab coat swished back and forth, and couldn’t help but smile when he thought about the two of them taking a break top side. He closed his eyes and could picture her standing there, gratefully smoking one of his cigarettes and listening to everything he had to say. Then, out of nowhere, a stinging slap was felt on the back of his head. Jolted out of his midday fantasy, he angrily turned around to see his lab mate, Dallas, standing there with his typical stupid look painted across his face.

  “Dude,” Dallas started, “There is no way that you will ever get into that lab coat. No matter how many packets of cigarettes you have. Somethings, you just can’t buy.”

  Angered at this bit of truth, Tucker pushed past Dallas to enter their shared workspace as he replied, “You’re an ass, you know that?”

  “So I’ve been told,” Dallas said as he followed Tucker inside the confined workspace.

  Amy smiled as she continued to walk along the plain hallway, the debate between Tucker and Dallas continuing behind her. She didn’t consider herself a superficial type of girl, but she couldn’t lie, it still felt nice to be hit on. She looked down at her watch, the weathered hands on her Micky Mouse watch indicated that it was nearly noon. She rubbed the face of the watch, removing a little smudge that must have been acquired during her last appointment with one of the lab patients. It was one of her more cherished watches, but it was the only one she still had. Her prized FitBit was fried during the EMP attack, along with most everything else digital. Only those few items that were properly shielded survived the dark night. She quickened her step, knowing that Klaus didn’t like to be kept waiting. Though he wouldn’t yell at her like he would everyone else in the Hole, instead he would throw one of his tantrums, where he would go silent. Much like a sulking teenager who wasn’t allowed to use their dad’s car on a Friday night.

  Amy reached the office of Klaus, as she punched in the four-digit code to enter his personal laboratory. There was an audible click, before she pulled the door open and entered his office. As she entered, she instantly saw him sitting behind his desk, head down, and a pile of paperwork as usual was scattered about his desk as well as the floor around his desk. “Have you eaten today?” She asked as she headed towards his desk.

  Dr. Klaus, looked up from the piles of paper filled with data and information, in response to Dr. Amy’s question. “What?” Was all he could replay before being pulled back down into the mass of information.

  Amy shook her head, frustrated, as she walked around the disorganized office. She leaned down and picked up the trashcan that sat empty next to the Doctors desk. Then carried it with her as she proceeds to toss in empty and half empty cups of coffee, partially eaten doughnuts and a few stale slices of pizza into the receptacle. There was a clamshell container that she mistakenly opened, only to be assaulted by the smell of mold and decay. She quickly tossed it into the can as she turned towards Klaus. “Seriously? You either have to start picking up after yourself or I will refuse to come to thees little meeting of yours.”

  “Fascinating,” Klaus said as he read another sheet of information. Then mid-read, he stopped and looked up, “Wait, what?”

  Now just annoyed, Amy stood there, arms crossed as she looked at her partner and one-time lover. “Why am I here?”

  “I think I’ve made some real progress. Utilizing visual stimulant along with the correct combination of aroma, I can
get the brain to react exactly as I want.” The Doctor said with a big grin on his face. “What I need from you, is to see if they are aware of this manipulation or if it is completely on the subconscious level.”

  Despite how much she hated him at times or how repulsive he could be, Amy still admired and even loved Dr. Klaus. Theirs was a connection formatively based on mutual mental stimulation. They define the very essence of the ideology behind the sapiosexual attraction. Even now, as Amy stood there, still holding the vial styrofoam container in her hand, she couldn’t help be drawn to this man. In physical appearance, they were bipolar opposites. While, she was tall, skinny and highly attractive, he stood just a hair over five foot, and weighed over two hundred pounds. His hair was black as night and covered his head in thick natural curls. Majority of the time, she could barely stand to be with him more than just a few minutes. But times like this, when he discovers something new or makes a breakthrough, showing off her pure genius, she can hardly stay off of him. “REALLY?” She nearly squealed out.

  “Yes, a bit, I mean, it’s the first real success I’ve seen with this new technique, but I think he’ll be pleased with it,” Dr. Klaus said, finally looking up long enough to truly see Amy.

  Amy smiled, as she asked, “Do you think you’ll have it done in time, on the type of scale he is wanting?”

  Dr. Klaus made a cringed expression, as he scrunched his face as he thought about it. “Let’s just say, it will be close. Speaking of the old man, have you heard from him lately? I’ve tried to get ahold of him today, but haven't been able to.”

  Amy was momentarily lost in thought, think about the possibility of true mind control, and on a level that would neither be recognized by the host nor detectable by others. It was truly a breakthrough and one that would be greater than any modern weapon ever designed. After a momentary laps into her own mind, she realized that Klaus was still looking at her. “What? I didn’t hear what did you said.”

  A but frustrated Dr. Klaus asked again, “The old man, have you hear from him lately?”

  “No, I have been so focused on my own projects, that I haven’t bothered to reach out to him as of late. Why?” Amy asked back as she finally deposited the white food container into the trash.

  Dr. Klaus, already refocused on the results in front of him, just muttered out, “I haven’t been able to reach him. Sure he's just busy or something, I’ll try later.”

  Amy just half nodded then turned to leave the office. She had just gotten to the door when she stopped, turned and asked. “Have you heard anything about Miguel?”

  This did cause Klaus to pull his attention momentarily away from his work. “Miguel is still alive though, at least the last I heard he was.”

  “Good, I always like Miguel,” Amy answered back as she smiled softly. “We often had long conversations about life.” She eagerly looked back at Dr. Klaus, “Do you think, I mean, if we ever had a chance to talk to him again, do you think he would join us again?”

  Dr. Klaus took in a deep breath, then slowly let it out as he pondered the question. “I really hope so. I would honestly like that.”

  “Me too,” Amy answered back, as she turned to head out of the office. Then once back into the sterile hallway, she pushed aside all her thoughts of her past and refocused on what needed to be done at the very moment. Much like Dr. Klaus, she too had a deadline to be completed before making her presentation before the King.

  15 Worn & Weathered

  20 Miles North of the Great Salt Lake

  The fourteen person team, of the USS Michigan and Camp Zion, were able to make some good time, as they continued their trek. There was a time or two that they had to lay low or detour their desired destination, due to a multitude of reasons, though in the end, they were able to continue their push. Given the lack of communication between them and Ms. White, they were not exactly sure in which direction to head, but considering their latest adventure, they felt it as best to avoid the large populous of the Salt Lake Valley. Instead, they looped around on the West side of the Great Salt Lake, putting the body of water between them and the populated metro center of Salt Lake and the surrounding towns.

  After their encounter with the Russians, they pushed all night, till the sun rose the next day. Finally, after they found a location that provided adequate security, as well as a good field of view, they set up a rotating watch as other got some much-needed rest. The location chosen was at a summit of a large hill, with the Eastern side facing the Salt Lake. They set up amongst some large boulders that dotted along the slope of the hill. They were able to use the open landscape of the hill to provided coverage of their backs, with the large boulders lining their flanks and finally the open waters of the Salt Lake all but ensured that they would not face any full on frontal attack.

  Once they set up camp, they had spent the rest of the day there, as well as the night. They mostly stayed hidden during the day, keeping a low profile, but under the cover of darkness, they were able to roam about some. They explored looking for some small game to eat, or any fresh water, and just tried to survive till they found out more information. Having no contact with Ms. White or the rest of the Zion camp survivors put them in a very difficult situation. They didn’t want to just keep pushing along, especially if they didn’t know what direction to push. They could very well walk right past the group and be miles beyond before realizing it. Thus they had chosen, as a group, to set up a camp, and try desperately to make contact. Plus the extra day of rest was much needed. Besides Jay, and Trigger, most of the others involved in this adventure, had trained their bodies for such a grueling undergoing, but even the best-maintained machines need some rest.

  The sun had just starting to kiss the horizon by the time the group really got moving around. Lt. Preen poured himself some coffee and replaced the canister back onto one of the hot rocks which lined the small fire ring. The day had been mostly clear, however, the day-long presence of the sun did little to warm up the place or melt the snow that still resided upon the ground. He walked over to where the Commander and Conall were talking. “Any new’s yet?” He asked as he raised the cup up to his lips to get another sip of the hot coffee.

  The Commander turned to face Lt. Preen, “Yes, and it not as good as we were hoping. Conall,” the Commander started as he gestured towards Conall who was no kneeling down putting the radio back into his pack, “Just made contact with our boss, Ms. White. They made it to their destination, just not as they had wanted.”

  Now holding the coffee cup with both hands, to allow the warmth of the liquid to warm up his hands, Lt. Preen asked, “Did she make it okay? What happened?”

  The Commanders face turned into a painful grimace as he weighed the question. “They were on their way when a Russian patrol closed in on them. They got away but had to push through an all-night hike to get to the Hive. Now that they are there, they can’t stay, not enough room. So, now they will be heading out for Free Montana in the next day or so. That is where we will meet up with them.”

  Lt. Preen pulled the cup of coffee up towards his mouth, the steam drifted upwards caring the sent of the coffee over his face. As he felt the warmth of the caffeinated steam crawl across his chilled face he thought about all that had just been conveyed. “How did the Russians find them, not to mention, what were the Russians doing here in the first place? Also, what’s in Free Montana, other than fewer Russians?”

  The Commander shook his head back and forth, then spoke up. “Not sure how they found them, or what they were doing there. Any force that size would be highly irregular, just like at the rail station next to the smelter. That would violate nearly every agreement set forth by the two nations. The only reason the Russians would risk such a violation would be with intent. Intent to start a war.” He paused as he scratched his cheek, then continued, “For whatever reason, they are here, all I know is it’s not good.”

  “Couldn’t it be though?” Lt. Preen asked. “Divide and conquer. If they are busying fighting one
another, they could not only buy us time to get our forces together, but allow us to pass undiscovered.”

  “True, if,” The Commander started, dragging the last word out, drawing a line in the air with it. “If they don’t bring in more troops to fight one another. Then we end up with a larger number of Russians and Chinese to deal with, not to mention the Regionals and Loyalist. We just don’t have the numbers for it, not yet anyway.” He paused again as he looked skyward at the thin lining of gray clouds which hung above them. “That’s why we need to get to Montana as soon as possible. Boss and the rest will meet us up there. Once there we’ll be able to better determine how we are going to play this out.”

  Lt. Preen pushed down the remaining dregs of the coffee in his cup. No longer hot, but still warmer than the outside temperature. “Well,” he started before turning and looking at his men, “My boys are ready, that’s for sure. Most everyone on the boat lost loved ones during the blackout. Since then, we have no clue if those who survived the long night, are even still alive or if they have been killed off too. I can speak for the Skipper when I say, we want to bring down that old SOB, the King and his men, and we want to see Old Glory flying high above the White House, and every house for that matter, once again. We have the armament and the capability, but that being said, we don’t just want to blow our load, if you know what I mean. We want it to mean something, we want to win, not just kill.”