“Inside. I’ll show you.”
“Hold up,” Ryan said. He moved back to the ledge and activated his throat mic. “Twenty survivors.”
“We can’t get them all down this way,” Cal said.
She understood the situation as well as Ryan did: Booth’s distraction wouldn’t work long enough. The curling club was situated at the end of a small peninsula. Plus, they didn’t have enough ammo to kill all the Siphons, not by a long way.
Ryan groaned. Using the scope, he looked around the semi-industrial area, sweeping his carbine back and forth.
He turned back to Mark. “What’s the food and water situation like?”
“Dire. Maybe another two days.”
“Right. So waiting them out isn’t an option.”
“How do you mean?”
“Some of the creatures have died from natural causes. Starvation or thirst.”
Mark shook his head. “We definitely don’t have the food to do that.”
“Do any of you have weapons?”
“A couple of pistols, but we ran out of ammo pretty fast.”
Booth continued his donuts, tires squealing. He weaved left and right and back to the access road, drawing a few Siphons away. It was as though they knew: most had stayed, resuming their vigil.
“I’m coming up,” Cal said.
Ryan returned his gaze out over the industrial area, searching for something, anything. His attention kept landing on an odd-looking vehicle. He knew what it was – he had seen them plenty of times – a straddle carrier, used for carrying containers or, in this case, logs. He squinted, looking again. It was for carrying sailboats, he realized. Like most harbors around the world, mooring buoys were scarce, so to solve that the port authority had introduced a dry stacking system.
Cal made it onto the roof with no issues and Ryan introduced Mark. He looked at the big man. “Bring your people up here. I have an idea to get us out of here,” Ryan said.
Next, he activated his radio. “Ebony. Where are you?”
“In the trees on the causeway.”
“Good. If you look behind you, do you see that bright blue, tall, odd-looking machine. Next to the sailing ships.”
There was a long pause before Ebony replied, “What the hell is that?”
“It shifts the boats. I need to know if it’s working and if you can drive it over here.”
“Umm okay.” Ebony laughed as she ended the transmission.
She was right to laugh. Out of all the insane ideas he’d had over the years, using the straddle carrier to escape a horde of spine-sucking ex-humans was right up there. The straddle carrier had two benefits. It was tall enough to access from the roof, and there was nothing other than one ladder to climb onto it. The Nameless could defend it easily.
“Where are we going to go once we have the survivors?” Cal said. Her scar puckered as she watched him. He wasn’t sure if she was amused or curious.
I love how your brain works. So lateral. Outside the box? You’re outside the stratosphere.
Ryan remembered her saying those words like it was yesterday. They had just finished their first assignment for LK3. Tracking down the daughter of a Silicon Valley scientist in Idaho.
“We don’t need to go anywhere,” Ryan said. “The carrier has a boat on it. We drive it straight down the boat ramp and cruise into the harbor.”
“What if they can swim?”
“Have you ever seen them swim?”
Cal shrugged. “It’s a good plan. I’ll update Allie.”
Mark returned with the rest of the survivors. They all stared wide-eyed at Ryan and Cal’s fatigues and equipment. Ryan counted them off in his head. Twenty, just like Mark had said. All adults, no children. He grouped them together away from the roof edge. Cal stood guard near the fire exit.
“We’re going to get you off here and away from those suckers down there. I need everyone to follow instructions. It’s going to seem weird how we’re doing it, but it’s our only shot.”
Most of the survivors nodded and stayed silent. A Polynesian man with thick black hair and traditional tattoos on his arms and legs tilted his head. “You guys Navy SEALs?”
“Something like that,” Ryan said.
The man grinned and stopped in front of Ryan. “I can still hear a trace of your accent.”
Ryan frowned. Not at the fact that his native accent was still there, more that most people didn’t realize, or care.
“Loto,” the Polynesian man said. “American Samoa born and bred.”
“Ryan. New Zealand once upon a time.”
“Sweet. I came to try curling, but then everyone fell over and…” Loto’s voice faded away. “I don’t know how to describe it.”
“It’s okay, brother. It was hell.”
“So who are you guys?”
Ryan looked at the other survivors. Some were listening. He gave a quick smile and switched to Samoan. He spoke slowly at first; it had been a while since he’d used the Polynesian vowel sounds. “We’re not Navy SEALs. Something similar.”
“Fair enough. I’m just glad you showed up. We were down to the last of the water. Food, maybe another day. I was thinking of making a run for it, but it didn’t end well for the others who tried that.”
“We’ll get you home.”
“What? Back to Samoa?” Loto grinned.
Ryan had always enjoyed the Polynesian sense of humor. “If you want.”
“Nah. Just away from those freaks will be good.”
Ebony, meanwhile, had reached the straddle carrier, managed to get it started, and was creeping toward The Nameless. She came over the comms. “Where do you want me to pull up?”
“The lower part, at the front.”
The Siphons began to shriek. If it could be described as a shriek. It sounded like the noise people make when frustrated, a cross between a groan and a scream.
“Ryan, do you copy?” Sofia said.
“I’m here.”
“I had a sudden realization about the Siphons and why they didn’t react to our plane landing.”
“What?”
“Something Avondale told me. Lisa observed them clustering around cell phone towers.”
Ryan scanned the rooftop of the curling club. Sure enough, there was a small cell phone tower, about ten meters high. “Nice work. Any ideas how to switch it off?”
“Just destroy the internal circuit boards.”
“On it.”
Cal had raised an eyebrow and had a slight smile. She didn’t have to say anything. It was all there in that one look, an inside joke.
For every problem, there is a simple solution.
Here they were, running around like idiots, and all they had to do was turn off the mobile network, sit back, and wait for the Siphons to eventually wander off. From his observations of them, they were attracted to noise more than anything – well, after cell phone masts. Stay quiet and hidden, and they left you alone for the most part.
Cal wasted no time in climbing up to the mast. She popped open the access panel.
“Hold up,” Ryan said. “Leave it on.”
“Why?” Cal and Sofia said a few seconds apart.
“Think about it. If the cellular signal attracts them and keeps them here, we know where they are. If it’s on, it will draw them in like mosquitoes to blood. In the long run, it’ll be safer for the town.”
“He’s right,” Sofia said.
“Beta team. Get back to the plane and meet us at the harbor. Ebony, keep coming with that carrier.” Ryan peered over the edge of the roof at the Siphons. Crowded around the front door and the side windows, some banged on the glass while others rubbed their faces against the cladding. Every now and then, one would grunt and several others would answer.
“Wilco,” Sofia and Booth said.
Ryan signaled Mark and Loto over. “Get your people ready. We’re going to move to the lower roof and then onto the carrier. If we keep silent, we might just make it without stirring them up.”
/>
The two men nodded and did as asked.
Ryan risked another peek over the edge. For now, the Siphons were docile.
Simple solutions…
Twelve
Portland, Oregon
After a full night’s sleep, Zanzi’s energy was renewed. Though the nanites healed damaged tissue, they did little for over-exertion, so a few aches and pains lingered that only rest could cure. Everyone other than Reid and Avondale had hit the hay. The early morning light cast squares of sunlight on the smooth concrete floor as Zanzi made her way to the kitchen. Pigeons had made a nest high up in one of the steel girders. Their cooing, normally annoying, had, for a change, been soothing. Maybe it was the fact that so much life had vanished. Now, when Zanzi heard any wildlife, she appreciated it.
Tilly smiled as she flipped over another pancake. “Hungry?”
“Famished,” Zanzi said, pouring a cup of tea.
“Fam-a what?” Tilly asked.
“Famished. Just another word for being hungry.”
“Oh, like that famine from the song?”
“Song?” Zanzi said. For a change, it was her asking the questions. It surprised her how much she enjoyed these interactions with Tilly. Despite their exhaustion, the pair had talked late into the night, Zanzi reassuring Tilly that she did the right thing by killing Adam and not to blame herself. After all, she had acted in self-defense.
“Yeah, I forget the name. Everyone is dressed funny. Mom used to sing it to me all the time. She said it was to raise money in Africa for a famine when she was a kid.”
Tilly piled several pancakes on a plate, smothered them with maple syrup, and handed the stack to Zanzi. They ate in silence, enjoying their meals. In the end office, Avondale was awake and in front of his monitors. Lines of code filled some screens while images from cameras flashed on others.
Everyone gradually woke up, and Zanzi soon busied herself feeding the rescued kids. She desperately wanted to talk to Jolene about what had happened and then try to figure out a way to reunite the children with their families; if those families were still alive. She knew the kids would talk, given enough time.
The rest of the morning was spent entertaining the children with games of charades and cards. The old factory was huge, with rooms everywhere. LK3 had utilized the place well, installing sleeping quarters, a kitchen, and a bathroom at the far end of the property.
Jolene helped Lisa interview each child, finding out where they lived. The children had plenty of questions too.
What happened?
When can I go home?
Where is my mom?
Have the bad men gone?
That last question brought tears to Zanzi’s eyes.
Lisa called a briefing in the office put aside as a command center. She waited until they were all seated: Jolene, Avondale, Zanzi, Reid, Tilly. Jolene and Zanzi had left the children in the care of the two male teachers – who had finally woken up, battered, bruised, and a little disoriented, but well enough – and Jacqui. “I’ve had enough excitement with you white folks. I’ll stay here with the children.” Zanzi didn’t blame her after the events of recent days.
Lisa retied her hair in a ponytail and straightened her shirt. She had found a whiteboard and some markers. “I promised you answers, Jolene, and I’m going to give it to you straight. Tell you what we know and answer any questions you have. Some details I can’t elaborate on for security reasons, but I’ll do my best.”
“I just want to know what happened.”
“An organization called OPIS infected two thirds of the world’s population over God-only-knows how many years with nanites. Then, at around twelve-thirty p.m. Pacific Time twelve days ago, they instructed the nanites to self-destruct. I’m sure you saw the victims turning to ash.”
“Are you serious?”
“Completely. I know it sounds like science fiction, but you witnessed what we all did.”
Jolene blinked a few times and stared at Zanzi, as if seeking confirmation. All Zanzi could do was nod; they all did. Jolene stared at them, shaking her head. “That would take a conspiracy of monumental scale. How?”
“We don’t know. I wish we did,” Lisa said.
“Who are you guys? CIA?”
“No. We’re a mixture. Reid here is US Army. Zanzi, Avondale and I work for an agency called LK3. Tilly was a former captive of OPIS.”
“I knew I should have gone home that awful day,” Jolene said. “After it happened, those who did survive just wandered around in disbelief. We gathered the remaining children in the gymnasium. We rang all the parents. A few came; most didn’t. No one I called answered their phone. No one. I went through my entire contacts list. We decided to stick it out until the police, National Guard, or some other authority showed up, but instead, we got the three brothers.” Jolene choked back a sob. She dabbed her swollen eye with the cold compress she’d been carrying around all morning.
“You kept them alive. That must count for something,” Zanzi said.
“Maybe.”
“It does. They’re alive, and they can carry on.”
“But at what cost?” Jolene shook her head. “What kind of world is this for children to grow up in?”
What cost indeed. It was a thought that had plagued Zanzi from the moment she’d witnessed the catastrophe. At what cost to the world? All that creativity lost. All that scientific knowledge. All that culture. Gone in mere seconds. “A world where we fight to defend our beliefs.”
Lisa cleared her throat. “We’ll help you in any way we can. Right now, we need to start planning our next move.”
Jolene nodded. “Nanites, you said?”
“Yes. Most of us are flooded with them. Those who survived either had none or not enough. OPIS allowed for this. They set up fake FEMA shelters and distributed food, water and medicines to infect those who remained. They hit the switch again the day before yesterday but, thanks to the efforts of some of our colleagues, we thwarted that. For how long, we don’t know.”
Jolene sat back, her stare distant as she absorbed the information. She dabbed her swollen eye a couple of times. “I teach computer sciences and studied at MIT for a year or so. Nanites were discussed a lot. A couple of the older students even theorized how to program them. Theory. Nothing practical. Our professor said it was possible, but years away. I’m just struggling to believe they actually did it.”
“We were amazed too,” Avondale said. “I’ve been running some simulations, trying to figure out if I can reprogram the nanites.”
“Can you?” Jolene asked. Hope echoed in her words.
“Given enough time, maybe. An expert in that field would help.”
Lisa scraped back her chair and stood with her hands behind her back. “Until my team gets back, we have to plan what we’re going to do. Do we continue destroying cell phone towers?”
“I vote we go after Doctor Lahm,” Zanzi said. “We need her. She helped build the nanites. If we have her, then, together with Avondale, Sofia, and your friend Monica, we’ll be able to stop OPIS.”
“That’s risky. The hospital they took her to is heavily guarded,” Lisa said.
Zanzi agreed. Going after Josie Lahm was risky. Perhaps even stupid. But she was the only person any of them knew who could give them enough insight into the nanites. How they worked. What they were made from. How they were programmed. She’d been thinking about saving Lahm all morning while they were sorting out the kids. Whatever they decided to do, she wanted another decent night’s sleep.
“I agree with Zanzi. We need Doctor Lahm,” Avondale said.
“Maybe if we had a full team, we could attempt it,” Lisa said, shuffling the folders around on the table in front of her.
Zanzi watched her for a few moments. She was certain Lisa was showing signs of nervousness, something she had never seen before. Zanzi chastised herself. The director was human, like anyone else. She had suffered loss and pain, seen friends killed in front of her. Of course she would show emotion.
/>
Zanzi refocused on the meeting.
“Sofia mentioned she’d found the source code while she was in Japan,” Avondale was saying. “She used it to program the nanites in their systems to something she called ‘elite level.’ Something those who run OPIS have. They heal faster, age slower, and are fitter, faster, stronger. Unfortunately, we need a device which she said looks like an airport security wand to isolate our alpha nanites. I believe Doctor Lahm will know how this works. Once we have such a wand, I can build a device and use it to protect us from any further electronic attacks.”
“Doctor Lahm has one,” Zanzi said. “She showed it to Tilly and me.”
“You guys are serious about this, then?” Lisa said.
“It’s a long shot, I agree, but yes,” Zanzi said.
“Reid. What do you think?”
“They won’t be expecting it, that’s for sure. Should we check with Munroe?”
“Radio and phones are still down,” Avondale said. “Internet is sketchy at best.”
“What about asking that Milo guy for help?” Reid worked out a kink in his neck, his hand subconsciously dropping to his side and rubbing his old wound.
“Zanzi, this is your idea. Knowing you, you have a plan,” Lisa said.
Tilly squeezed her hand, as if to give her confidence. “This is going to sound mad, but now that we have Jolene, I think my idea will work. OPIS are just as curious about the Rabids as we are. They’ve been sending teams out to gather subjects for study. What if we pose as victims attacked by the Rabids? Jolene, you’d be perfect because of your injuries. Reid and I can look like victims. Spread blood over us. The guards at the hospital will only take a quick look and we drive straight in.”
Lisa raised her eyebrows. “You really are a Connors. A bold and crazy plan. What about weapons?”
“We find a body and wrap our guns in plastic. Hide them inside the cadaver. Once we’re in the lab, we take the weapons out, find Lahm, and get out. We just need a getaway car.”
“Let me get this straight. You want to find a dead body, remove its organs, hide guns inside it, drive to the hospital, rescue Lahm, and drive away?” Lisa said.
“I know it sounds crazy.”
Masks of Ash Page 10