Ring of Fire

by David Agranoff

  The general stepped back into the carrier section of the chopper. Their faces were a mixture of disturbed and confused. He found the most upset looking man in the group. He put his arm around the young man and yelled loud enough to be heard.

  “It is an ugly thing, men. Every life you take in this operation is the one that might save a thousand more from infection. Heads up boys and girls, this gets worse before it gets better.”

  They nodded. He gave a pat on the shoulder to the nearest man. He knew it was a tough sell. They didn’t sign up to do this on their own soil. Redcrow moved back into the co-pilot seat as they rode north.

  ***

  The year Damian was born was the hardest year of Jake’s life. He loved Tiffany and the experience of having their first child was seamless. He loved his daughter but he wanted a son, and fantasized about a boy to teach sports, and do guy things with. The first birth was so simple that Jake took the ease for granted. When Damian was born he was sick constantly and Victoria barely survived. During that year she developed a distant look that was underscored by two dark circles under her eyes.

  It had been a few years since he saw those circles, until this day. Through the illness of her parents and her second child, publicly Victoria showed a strong confident face. At night she would lock herself in the bathroom and cry for hours. Jake took care of the kids and would knock on the door every few minutes, asking to be let in. He just wanted to help.

  When Victoria returned to her normal self, when that haggard stressed look faded away, he promised himself he would do what he could to never see that face again. That is why he was afraid to tell her about the tumor buried deep inside him. That is why in all the chaos they survived the look on his wife’s face broke his heart. The fear had wrecked her and he could faintly see the dark circles forming.

  Victoria held Tiffany. She turned her daughter’s body, hoping she would not see the gun in Robbins’s hand. It was too late to prevent trauma, she found the bodies in the bathroom, not to mention the roving bands of ferals. Jake certainly didn’t feel like father of the year.

  Jake turned back to Robbins. The middle-aged black man had graying tips on his dreadlocks. He had a big frame. Jake thought about tackling him, but they would probably go down the stairs and he didn’t know how good he was with the gun. Andrew and Scott seemed to be backing up and letting Jake take charge. Andrew even had his hands up as they all crowded in the hallway.

  Austin, the punk rocker, was a wild card. She seemed just as shocked.

  “I’ll say it again, I didn’t shoot that family. You gotta believe me.”

  “I don’t know you.” Jake straightened up, trying to not show fear. “I don’t know what you’re capable of.”

  “I know him . . . since I was little kid. He didn’t kill a family in cold blood.”

  Victoria gave Jake a look before she spoke. “I don’t care how long you’ve know him. He just said the world is ending.”

  “It is,” Robbins added.

  Austin rolled her eyes. “You’re not helping.”

  “Hold on a minute.” Robbins appeared to be counting to ten to calm himself. “We opened the door to help you. I found this house when I needed sanctuary. I am sorry for the Murphy family, I am, but their house is all that is keeping us alive.”

  Scott nodded at that.

  Andrew pulled the bathroom door shut. “He’s right, and for now we need to think about how to get downtown.”

  Austin shook her head. “I just came from downtown. There is nothing worth going there for.”

  “We have a plan, Andrew is a pilot,” Victoria blurted out.

  Andrew and Jake shared a look of disgust.

  “There is nowhere to run. We just have to ride it out. If you want, in the morning we can find another house nearby,” said Robbins, as he backed down the stairs.

  Jake shook his head. “Ride it out? For how long?”

  “Go ahead, write him off as crazy.” Austin grinned. “Everyone else did and he predicted all this.”

  “Daaaad!” Adam screamed. Even with the gun pointed his direction Adam pushed Robbins out of the way. Robbins and the whole group followed him. Jake felt the panic. At the bottom of the steps, he saw Adam propping Damian up. A bright pink puddle was beside them where Damian had puked.

  “Adam, get back!” Andrew wrenched his son away and Jake caught Damian before he hit the floor. The rest of the world faded away. It was just Jake and Damian. He couldn’t count on his fingers the number of times he thought they were losing him. Victoria called him their miracle boy for a reason.

  He knew she was with them. Victoria grabbed the boy’s hand. Jake used the boy’s shirt to wipe the brightly colored vomit off his lips.

  “Dad,” Tiffany spoke meekly behind them.

  “No, No . . .” Victoria spoke just above a whisper.

  Jake turned to point at the water bottle on the floor tipped over and making a puddle on the hardwood floor. It had been empty when they went upstairs. Jake looked into the boy’s eyes. The pupils were an unnatural yellow and the whites turned dark red. Jake was close enough to see the boy’s eyeballs were crawling with infection.

  “Oh, shit,” Scott said behind him.

  A wave of anger and sorrow overcame Jake. He cried holding his son. He felt Victoria’s arm go around him.

  “I’m sorry, Jake . . .” Andrew said, his only friend that knew just how low this moment was. Andrew knew that he was dying too. Jake couldn’t think rationally at that moment. He screamed in rage before the house fell back to an uncomfortable silence. He hugged his son as tight as he could. He didn’t feel gone. He was warm. His heart raced. He was full of life still.

  “He’s not dead,” Jake whispered.

  “You’ll wish he was,” Robbins said as he stood over him.

  “Shut up!” Victoria yelled.

  Scott and Andrew stayed silent. Jake looked at them through blurry tear filled eyes. “He’s not dead.”

  Robbins and Austin looked at each other and Robbins stepped closer.

  “You heard the gunfire, man. They’re killing the infected. You think they would do that if Dr. Oz could airdrop a cure?”

  “Fuck!” Scott punched the wall. Andrew led Adam out of the room.

  Jake shook his head and in the same moment Damian began to shake. He convulsed in Jake’s arms. He could barely hold him. The boy turned his eyes up and looked at his father. Damian opened his mouth wide and leaned in to bite his mother. Scott reached up and grabbed Victoria by her hair. He violently pulled back at the last moment slamming her into the floor. It was the only thing that saved her from the bite.

  Jake fought to control his son’s arms but the little boy was filled with rage and unnatural strength for his little body. Robbins pulled out his gun and pointed it at them.

  “No!” Tiffany screamed and stepped in the way. Behind her Damian reached for his sister. Jake controlled his arms. He picked up the boy.

  “Rope!” Jake screamed. Robbins stared at Tiffany still holding the pistol toward them.

  “Put it down!” Victoria screamed.

  Damian screamed. They all knew the sound. The primal uncontrolled rage of the ferals.

  “Rope!” Jake struggled to scream as he held his son in place.

  Scott came back from the garage with five, thin yellow ropes that had a red flag on the end of one piece. Jake carried his son to the dining room table. The boy tried to turn his head back to bite him. Jake pinned him on the table. Scott ran to the table and tied the boy’s arms.

  Once the arms were down the brothers worked together to tie down his legs. Jake was shaking from the effort, every muscle in his upper body tightened. His breath labored, he could feel the damage the nasty air had done.

  Damian struggled against the ropes that were designed to hold down furniture in the back of trucks, it wouldn’t hold long. Victoria and Tiffany cried on the floor. Robbins walked toward him. He put the pistol back in his hip holster.

  “I’m sorry, so
sorry,” Robbins spoke between Damian’s screams.

  Jake looked around the room. Everyone was afraid to speak. Scott was the closest. His ladies were on the floor, Andrew and son in the next room. Austin and Robbins kept a little distance. Jake felt the pistol pointed at him.

  “There is no cure, he is dangerous.” Robbins sounded nervous “No one likes it but . . .”

  “Stop!” Victoria screamed.

  Jake felt his world falling apart around him. They fought so hard for this little boy. He didn’t think there was another miracle for him, but after all he survived Jake prayed for it. Jake felt an urge to run, to take Damian and run. If he tried, Scott blocked his way, his brother stepped forward and hugged him.

  All the petty arguments melted away. He had his old brother back and he held him tight. Even as they hugged Damian screamed, causing a wave of sobbing tears. Scott whispered in his ear. “Whatever you do, I’ll support you.”

  No cure, no cure. He told himself. He heard the screams all day but until this moment he didn’t realize how much pain was in that sound. His little boy was being tortured from the inside. He knew that the infection was rapidly consuming the brain; that is what brought the madness. Jake hugged his brother tighter and grabbed the pistol that was in his belt loop.

  Scott pulled back from the hug and Jake pointed the pistol at Robbins.

  “No, No,” Victoria begged.

  Robbins lifted his pistol. They were in a classic standoff.

  “Look at him, Jake. Every second you delay you’re torturing that boy,” Robbins yelled.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Jake saw his son writhe on the table. He fought against the ropes and his eyes leaked blood red tears. He continued to scream.

  “Get Tiffany out of here,” Jake whispered. Victoria shook her head, but pulled her into the next room. Andrew stood in the doorway. Jake knew what he was thinking. “It ain’t your boy, Andy.”

  “No, it isn’t. I’m sorry, Jake.”

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake.” Robbins pointed his gun at Damian. Jake didn’t think just pulled the trigger. The report of the pistol was the first thing loud enough to block out Damian’s screams. The bullet blasted into Robbins below his shoulder just above his heart. The power of the blast sent him back into the wall. He slammed into it and slid to the floor leaving a red stain on the wall.

  “Nooo!” Austin screamed as Robbins’s pistol fell in front of her. She jumped up and grabbed the pistol. Jake stared down the same pistol in her hands.

  “Put it down, sweetheart.” Robbins struggled to speak. He bled massively, and he had a lung that was burst, caving in like a balloon losing air.

  “He just fucking shot you.”

  Jake felt awful, but it was hard to bring himself to care with his son screaming behind him. Victoria had her hands up. Scott kept saying his name. His ear drums were wrecked by the thunder of the gun and his son’s screaming. He couldn’t hear her but he could read his wife’s lips. Put it down, Put it down, Jake.

  He lowered the pistol a bit.

  “You know what you need to do, Jake,” Robbins spoke through the pain.

  Damian broke through one of the ropes. Scott jumped to the table and struggled to hold down his nephew’s arm. Jake worried that she might accidentally fire. He didn’t suspect she knew what she was doing with the gun in her hand.

  Austin lowered the gun. “Someone has to do it. That boy is suffering and we all know there is no cure.”

  “That boy survived so much,” Victoria whispered.

  “What if they find a cure tomorrow?” asked Scott.

  Austin shook her head. “They were bombing the bay. Bombing it.” Austin lowered herself to Robbins.

  “Don’t be mad,” Robbins spoke softly to her. “Go with them and get my book to the survivors. They owe me now.”

  Austin cried holding his hand. He was dying, and Jake knew it. He had done it. Taken a man’s life. He wasn’t sick, or infected. He could try to rationalize it, he was trying to kill his son, but he couldn’t do that. In his heart, he knew Robbins was right. Jake listened to Austin sob as Robbins closed his eyes for the last time.

  “Jake!” Scott continued to struggle with little Damian. The boy snapped, trying to bite at his arm. He couldn’t keep it up. Jake knew he had to act. He turned back toward his son.

  “Andy, keep them out of here.”

  Andrew stood in front of Victoria and pushed her back. Austin closed her eyes.

  “No! No! Jake! Don’t!” His wife screamed as Andrew pushed her out.

  Jake prayed quietly, only for himself and God. “Forgive me, put us together again soon.”

  “I’m here, Jakers.” His brother looked at him with sympathy.

  Jake climbed up on the table.

  “Get out!”

  ***

  Victoria screamed and pushed with all of her strength. Andrew planted his feet to push her back. Scott came into the living room. He saw Tiffany and Adam backed up to the front door. Scott waved Tiffany toward him, as he grabbed Victoria and pulled them into a hug. Victoria struggled against the grip but Scott held her tight. Andrew went to his son and covered his ears.

  “Stay here,” Scott whispered “Vic, please just stay—”

  “No! Noooo!” She used every ounce of strength, but Scott held her in place. She screamed a primal scream that almost matched her son in the dining room.

  Scott looked at Tiffany. “Cover your ears, sweetie.”

  Tiffany covered her ears. In the next room, Damian continued to scream uncontrolled and then . . .

  Boom.

  Followed by silence. Victoria lost all strength in her legs. There were no words for the feeling. She had some sense that her knees hit the hardwood floor. She felt nothing. Scott Dropped with her and pulled her tighter. She felt her daughter’s tears on her neck.

  Damian was silent now. She heard Jake sobbing in the next room.

  “You bastard,” Victoria whispered. “You fucking bastard.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “The network is hesitant to air the mayor live. They will monitor and record the signal.”

  Martin was waiting for this information. He was expecting it when Kendra took the last call in her office. He held his phone up with the FaceTime signal open. The mayor, Mitchell and Lisa waited on the other side.

  Bingham and Clark, the rookie and the traffic reporter, both shook their heads and took off to the studio. Gonola was already in there waiting for the GO signal. Martin waited, the only one without a job to do. He and Kendra shared a long look.

  “How long before you start broadcasting?”

  Kendra took a deep breath. “We would like five minutes to finish—”

  The lights flickered and the power shut off, not only the lights and the computers, but the air conditioners that ran twenty-four hours a day in the newsroom. Martin could only see Kendra in the glow of his phone.

  “Shit.”

  Martin looked at the phone and could no longer see the mayor or Lisa.

  “We lost power. Did you lose power?” The mayor asked

  In the near total silence and dark, Martin heard the pained screams coming from one of the offices. He looked that direction when the lights and ambient noise of the office came back to life. Kendra was breathing deeply. Trying to control herself. Third time the power blinked, that time was longest yet. Martin looked at the scared news director.

  “Two minutes, Mister Mayor.”

  Martin turned his phone, so the camera was on him. Lisa and the mayor were jammed into the video.

  “You got that?”

  “Roger that,” The mayor said without any irony. “Standing by.”

  “I have work to do.” Kendra walked off.

  There was a silence on the other end.

  “You OK, Martin?” asked Lisa.

  He had to think about how to respond. No one was OK but he made it here and mission accomplished so far. He minimized the FaceTime call and opened his Twitter, expecting to have h
undreds of notifications. Nothing. He scrolled through the feed. He saw nothing from Lisa and nothing about San Diego. He clicked on the #prayforSD hashtag. General well wishes and prayers from around the country and world, but as he scrolled through he didn’t see any of his tweets.

  “Martin?”

  “I’m fine. Look, Lisa, have you been checking your Twitter feed? Instagram? Facebook?”

  “Yeah, since we were online.”

  “My Twitter is blocked. I’m blocked. I hit send but they just won’t post.”

  Martin opened a new tweet and typed, ‘Hello.’ He clicked send. He watched it load. His Twitter feed rolled to the top. He saw his tweet there. He was going to ask Lisa to look for it when the message disappeared and Twitter reloaded.

  “Shit.” Martin maximized the video. Lisa was now holding the phone typing something. The camera looked at the floor and shook. “Mitchell, how can they block us?”

  Lisa held the phone, so Martin could see Mitchell. The tech shrugged. “Just a guess, but they may have software looking for certain accounts. Our emergency broadcast signal just started and we have traffic, much of that is local on our sat Wi-Fi and how much is beyond the disaster . . . who knows?”

  Martin nodded. “Signal is strong. How about you, Mister Mayor?”

  Lisa moved the camera to him, putting his suit on behind the camera. He gave a thumbs up. Martin smiled. This was happening. Someone wanted to silence them but it was time to shine a very bright light on this disaster.

  ***

  It would be easy to mistake the glow on the horizon as dawn from above the city. The smoke had spent most of the day hanging in a whirlwind above the city. There was a slight offshore wind that on a normal day would have pushed the plumes of smoke east. The Santa Ana winds were strong and pushed the smoke and ash west over the city. Now the ocean breeze picked up and pushed the smoke to the east giving Redcrow a good look.

  From the gunship’s cockpit it looked like a campfire. The skyscrapers that housed banks and offices looked like logs burning on red hot embers.