The Dead Room Trilogy

by Stephanie Erickson

  When he hung up, he called Hope next.

  “Where are you?” she asked.

  “At CSMC. Where are you?”

  “Going to get my family. Then we’re heading to the island,” she answered, much to Ashby’s relief.

  “Okay, you have the address, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll send you Ashley’s contact information. She’s already there. I don’t want you to surprise her.”

  “Mr. Ashby, did you know this would happen?” He could hear the fear in every tiny quiver of her voice.

  “I hoped it wouldn’t.”

  “I mean to this extreme? Did you know a city could go dark because of the C-bots?” she persisted, like saying no would put her completely at ease. Somehow, him not knowing this could happen would make it an impossibility. Something that wouldn’t spread. That couldn’t spread.

  “It wasn’t a realistic concern, or at least I hoped it wasn’t,” he said, and she remained silent.

  “Just get to the island,” he said, and she hung up. He hoped she could get there in time.

  Henry Ford hospital was next. They didn’t make any progress on discovering the error. They were glued to the radio, listening to the chaos as it unfolded. But, just as suddenly as the first, the scenario started playing out just a few hundred miles away.

  It was as if the bots were communicating with each other. It seemed the bots from Chicago joined those in Detroit and leveled that city to nothing in a matter of days.

  “This isn’t right. There shouldn’t be enough of them to accomplish this much damage,” Mendi said.

  Ashby glanced at his laptop, still open and untouched. And he noticed a code he hadn’t seen before. He had no idea if it was new, or if he just hadn’t seen it. It followed after some instruction about consuming metals. It was supposed to be turned off in bots the hospitals had, but it appeared to have been activated.

  Ashby’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the screen. “Copy?” The code defiantly sat in the middle of his beautiful program.

  {Copied.execCommand(“Copy”)}

  “What the…” Ashby’s heart raced as he realized what was happening, and he glanced up at the screen.

  Arial footage of Detroit was devastating. Nothing but a grey wasteland starting at the hospital and working out in a circle toward civilization. But the outskirts of the circle had already been evacuated, and Ashby knew the homes and buildings would be destroyed soon.

  “They’re self-replicating. It’s only a matter of time,” Ashby breathed as they watched the television in the waiting room of the hospital. They’d forgotten all about finding the clue that might help them stop it. They were like deer in the headlights as the horrors playing out blinded them to their salvation.

  21

  Approximate year, 2346

  It only took another week for Mattli’s team to get the windmill together. Their breakthrough came just at the right time. Mason’s team was chomping at the bit to get started. They were tired of working on prototypes and wanted to get to work actually applying their hypothesis.

  Mattli couldn’t get over how ingenious their development was, and it all boiled down to hinges—hinges that didn’t all face the same direction. They’d tried that, and as soon as a stiff wind came along, the thing collapsed in on itself.

  One last problem remained. It was too large to fit in the dead room.

  “Are you sure we can’t test it above ground?” Mattli asked for the umpteenth time.

  “No. It needs to be in the dead room.”

  “Why?” Mattli persisted, although he already knew the answer.

  “Because we need to test it down there. In case something goes wrong. That way, the bots will be contained.”

  “I…” Mattli clearly hadn’t thought that far ahead. “How exactly do you intend to test the device, Mason?” he asked, completely skeptical of the suggestion.

  “Well, I guess I haven’t thought too much about it, but I’ll probably do something like I did when we opened the journal—just go in there, have them open the box, and turn on the EMP. Or maybe in a different order, but you get the gist.”

  “I don’t think that’s your best idea.”

  “Maybe not,” Mason agreed. “But I won’t send someone else in to do the most dangerous part.”

  Mattli nodded, as if he knew he wouldn’t win the argument. Mason hoped he’d let it go.

  But he didn’t. “Mason. It can’t be you. You’re the future of this island. Going to the mainland is your baby. Let someone else do it, if that’s how you feel it needs to be.”

  “No. I won’t send someone else to the slaughter. The future of this island doesn’t rest solely on my shoulders. At least, it better not. If something catastrophic happens, you and Lehman can carry on.”

  “I’m an old man, Mason.”

  “True enough. But Lehman isn’t. Everything will be okay. This island has taught us nothing, if not the fact that life goes on, with or without us.”

  Mattli was silent, his mouth a thin line.

  Mason shrugged. “We’re still a good bit away from testing it anyway.” He clapped a hand on the old man’s shoulder. “These are worries for another day.”

  First, they had to get the power into the dead room.

  Because the dead room was in the middle of the woods, where a strong wind would be hard to catch, they charged up their makeshift battery in the field before disconnecting it and carrying it down. The battery was small and wouldn’t hold much energy, but Mason was hopeful that, if it worked, they could make more of them before they left.

  Now, the hard part—actually connecting their prototype to the power source and seeing if it would work.

  They ran into more than a few problems at first. The connections weren’t exactly what they expected, and they had to rework the prototype to accept power from the makeshift battery. By the time they did that, they’d drained the damned thing and had to carry it back up to charge. Mason could only hope the EMP wouldn’t drain that much energy, and they’d get to definitively see if it worked or not before the damned battery died.

  After over a week of fiddling, and trial and error, it was time for the first test—seeing if the device would at least turn on. If that worked, Mason would have to worry about testing it out on the bots. But that was a problem for another day. Today, they just wanted to see their EMP accept power from Mattli’s battery.

  “Are you ready?” Gabe asked.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Gabe held two wires out, ready to make the last connection to the device. “Dear Ashby, let this work.”

  “I didn’t think you were much of a religious man, Gabe,” Mason said, half smiling.

  “I’m not. I just thought a little extra—” But his words cut off abruptly. His body shook violently as he held the two connections to the device.

  “What’s happening?” Mason asked, jumping up and going to Gabe.

  “Don’t touch him,” Mattli shouted, grabbing a long piece of wood left propped against a wall from their deconstruction, and construction.

  Carefully, he pried Gabe away from the EMP. Smoke was rising from the device by that point, and the dead room filled with the scent of burned flesh.

  Once Gabe was lying flat, Mason fell to his knees near his head. Gabe’s eyes were open. His skin was red and warm to the touch, but he wasn’t breathing.

  “He’s not breathing,” Mason cried. He started CPR on him, but the others just stood by watching.

  “Someone, help me.”

  “Mason,” Mattli said quietly.

  “What? Why are you just standing there?”

  “He’s gone.”

  “How can that be? What happened?”

  “He was electrocuted. A surge of energy passed from the battery through him and into the EMP. It must have passed over his heart,” Mattli said.

  “How do you know that? He could be just fine. You’re not a doctor,” Mason accused as he pounded Gabe’s chest.
“He has a family.”

  “Yes. So did the man who drowned a couple of weeks ago.”

  Mason winced. Now two men had been lost to their cause. Two families shattered by his dreams.

  “I can’t,” Mason said simply and walked out.

  He didn’t know if Mattli followed him. He didn’t look back. He walked the other way down the path, away from the town and deeper into the woods. He walked into the formerly restricted area, where Ashley had found the canoes so long ago, and then kept walking. The cold bit at his fingers and nose, but he kept going. Beyond the restricted area, the woods closed in, making his walk harder. He ignored the pain in his side as he stomped through the brush until he finally made it to the end of the island.

  There were rocks to sit on. There was also a small strip of sandy beach to find shells and throw them in, but most of all, there was peace. Normally. Today, he’d brought a storm with him, and the peace he sought remained out past the shoreline. The water lapped at his feet, getting his shoes wet as he stood on the edge, and he debated walking out. Stepping off the island and never returning.

  Don’t even think about it, a comfortingly familiar voice said to him. Was it in his head? He turned, searching for her. It had been so long since he’d seen her. It made his heart ache thinking about it.

  She was sitting with her back to the sea on a rock that jutted out into the water. The expression on her face said she clearly didn’t approve.

  “Ashley, Gabe is dead.”

  I know. I’ve seen him. So?

  “So?” he shouted. “How can you be so callous?”

  Death does that to you. She smiled at him, and he realized she was teasing him. Come and sit with me.

  He did, but he wanted to look at the ocean, so he sat face to face with her, instead of next to her. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

  Yeah, you keep pulling me away from important stuff. I’m a big deal in heaven, you know. You’re down here whining about something, so I have to come down here and put you back together, just like old times.

  He laughed. In reality, it was he who often put her back together after Wesley had beaten the living daylights out of her. She smiled softly at him.

  I’m sorry, Mason.

  “Me too.”

  They sat in silence for a few moments, and he wished he had a fishing pole or something like they used to. He missed her. The moment he thought it, she looked over at him knowingly and nodded.

  “Where do I go from here, Ashley?”

  Home. You go home.

  With that, she faded and left him completely alone.

  Darkness fell, and the stars looked brilliant on the cold, clear night. He thought about sleeping out there under the stars. Long ago, he’d lost feeling in his fingers, and his wet feet were a lost cause. A few more hours couldn’t hurt any more than it already had. He laid back on the rock and looked up at the stars, wondering what they’d seen in all their years. How many people had been on the Earth, and how many civilizations had destroyed their way of life?

  Was that what he was doing? Leading them into certain death? With two people dead at their hands, and more unknowns on the mainland, it sure felt that way.

  Some rustling in the bushes behind him stopped his train of thought, although he didn’t sit up to see who it was. Despite the fact that he was on a more remote part of the island, it was too cold and late for an animal to be wandering around. He knew it was either Lehman or Mattli.

  “How did you find me?”

  “Not like you tramped delicately through the woods here, man,” Lehman said as she sidled up next to him. She’d dressed a lot more warmly than he had. She was prepared to be out here a while. Mason frowned. He didn’t want company. At least not Earthly company.

  If she saw his irritation, she ignored it. “Mattli told me what happened. Welcome to the club. Now you’re actually a killer.”

  That stopped him. She was right. Many people on the island thought he was already a killer. Now, he owned the title. “I liked it better when people just thought I was a murderer.”

  “All right, don’t dig that well of despair too deep. Brooding isn’t your style anyway.”

  “You started it,” he accused, only half playfully.

  She didn’t answer, instead looking out at the moon’s reflection on the ocean. “It’s rather calm tonight. Think we’ll be this lucky when we launch?”

  “When will that ever happen, Lehman? We’ve been working at this for weeks and have killed two people.”

  “It won’t happen if we give up. Ever.”

  That struck him to the core. The thought of never going back, never reclaiming the mainland, never seeing Ashley’s dreams come true… it almost choked him.

  “Yeah, I knew there was still some drive in you. I just had to find it.”

  “But how can we go on after this?”

  “You find a way. Life will go on no matter what we do. Might as well work toward something good,” she said, patting his leg.

  She turned, beckoning him. “Come on. It’s cold out here. You’ve got me out here chasing after you like some lovesick teenager.”

  It took a long time to make their way back to the civilization of the island. And when they got to Lehman’s home after over an hour of walking, she invited him in for a drink.

  “Tempting. But I think I’ll pass. I’m ready to go home.”

  “All right. Offer stands if you change your mind. I’m not big on sleep anyway,” she said.

  He nodded at her and turned to leave.

  “It doesn’t get easier,” she said as he walked away.

  He turned around.

  “I know people will say that to you. They said it to me. But it doesn’t. Every day, I wonder who will be next. Who else will I be responsible for? Which family will I have to watch cry as I tell them their loved one died?”

  He could only look at her. He’d never heard such blatant honesty about such a thing. His instinct was to comfort her. “It’s only been a couple of weeks, Lehman. It’ll get better.”

  “I hope it doesn’t, Mason. It keeps me diligent. It helps me focus on potential problems, scenarios, and every possible way I can keep the people in my charge alive.”

  “Well, that’s one way to look at it.”

  She only nodded at him, looking very sober in the late-night moonlight.

  “Goodnight, Lehman.”

  “Back in the saddle tomorrow, Mason.”

  He waved over his shoulder at her as he walked back to his home.

  22

  Approximate year, 2346

  The next few weeks were difficult at best. They were so close to a breakthrough, and they were all tentative. But Mason was at the head of the line, cautioning them at every turn.

  Finally, Lehman’s team had a boat that would get them, and all their gear, safely to shore.

  When she came to the dead room to break the news, and saw what little progress they’d made, she was confused.

  “What’s the hold up?” she asked.

  No one wanted to answer. They all just shifted their weight and mumbled something about “delays.”

  “What delays? What’s going on?” she demanded.

  The room grew silent as Mason came in from the inner chamber.

  “Elder Lehman, this is a nice surprise.”

  “What’s going on here? It looks like you haven’t made any progress in the last several weeks.”

  “Well, we haven’t moved forward at the rate we were before, but we’re still making progress,” he said, his tone encouraging and light.

  “Can I speak with you outside?”

  “What happened to no secrets among the elders?” he asked.

  “Go outside, Mason. None of us wants to hear you get chewed a new one by Lehman there,” Mia Glaskow said. A few of the others cleared their throats. As he looked around, he saw most of them nodding and looking toward the hatch.

  “Fine. Throw me under the bus. See how quickly I come to your rescue wh
en you need it.” He followed Lehman, who was already halfway up the ladder.

  Once they were outside, he spoke first, to avoid any accusations. “So, to what do I owe this pleasure? Making progress yourself?” He didn’t expect her answer to be yes. It never was. But he thought diverting her attention to her own perceived failings would help her go easy on him.

  “Actually, we finally have a boat that will take us to the mainland. We tested it out today. It’s incredibly stable, and it will hold a pretty good load. We’re working on a second to take overflow supplies and things.”

  So he was the weak link. Somehow, though, he couldn’t bring himself to push them forward. He was terrified someone else would—

  Lehman broke his train of thought. “This is about Gabe, isn’t it?”

  He didn’t answer. Of course it was about Gabe. His match had taken the news surprisingly well, saying she was proud of all he’d done to get them as far as he had. His children were coping the way children do, and he worked hard to provide them with creature comforts, remembering how unhappy Ashley was when her dad died. He’d even requested for them to have one of his shirts made into a pillow, so they would have him with them. Although it was argued it was wasteful when someone else needed a shirt, he said they could have all his other shirts. Just leave one for the kids.

  The women ended up having a soft spot for him, or maybe the kids, and made two pillows, one for each of them. And the island still had plenty of clothes to go around.

  “You’ll have to let him go, Mason. He wouldn’t want you delaying like this.”

  “Delaying? We’re not even ready to leave. I’m not delaying anything.”

  She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, but she said nothing.

  As they walked the path, he knew she was right. Gabe was probably screaming at him from wherever he was to keep going. But every time they got to something halfway risky, Mason would put on the brakes and make them go back and redo their work, double and triple checking the connections.