Exit Zero (Book 2): Nuke Jersey

by Neil A. Cohen

  Woodrow frowned. “And what is really happening?” He sensed a “we know something you don’t know” shtick.

  The screen on Woodrow’s laptop blurred, then regained clarity to display a live video stream from cameras surrounding the Princeton University campus. The display quickly switched from one camera to another, demonstrating that they had access to several cameras and thus, several angles.

  “Do you know this place?” The voice asked.

  Woodrow squinted. “Yes, that’s where we were. Forward Operating Base Prince.”

  “You mean the base formally known as Prince,” said the quick-witted voice. “Now it is known as FEMA Camp #3, though FEMA has nothing to do with it. All these camps are privately run by PCRC contractors. They have told the country that the infected are being housed on college campuses until a cure can be found and administered. You and I both know there is no cure.”

  “So...what are they housing them for?”

  “For de-pop,” came the cryptic response. “De-population. Just like if they were bird flu-stricken poultry.”

  The camera switched and displayed a shot of hundreds of Skells being herded into the large white buildings erected on the quad by men in hazmat suits. Once the infected were inside, the doors were sealed, and those same men picked up large tubes that were connected to the tanker trucks. They inserted the nozzles into portals on the side of the building and began pumping something into the facility.

  The picture on Woodrow’s computer changed to a view from the inside of the building. The feed looked down from a camera mounted on the ceiling. White foam was being pumped in. It filled the room and as foam submerged the Skells, they convulsed and struggled. They thrashed and howled and screeched and clawed at themselves and each other until they were finally still. It was a gruesome death, even for those that already seemed to be dead.

  “That is fire retardant foam,” the cow head said. “It sucks all the oxygen from the room. It envelops their bodies and suffocates the infected. They are then carted off for incineration in special ovens that had been created to cremate livestock without causing smell or soot. Do you know how long it takes to incinerate an entire cow? Eight hours. It takes eight hours to completely incinerate a single cow. There’s your Jeopardy question for the day.”

  “I can’t believe they’re doing this,” Woodrow began with a shout, but when he realized he wasn’t alone in the house, he toned it down.

  “Well, they are. The infected are treated as if they’re already dead. As if they no longer matter. To us, they matter. We don’t fully understand what these people have become, but even if they are the walking dead, dead lives matter.”

  Woodrow looked away from the horrific events on the screen.

  The voice continued: “You will let the world know what is happening and you will be their voice. You will let the world know who made them and who is destroying them.”

  “I’m sorry... I...just can’t.” Woodrow’s voice faded into a whisper. “I have done enough damage.”

  “May we show you one more thing? Perhaps this will incentivize you,” the voice said.

  The camera switched again and there was a live feed of Fiona, she was sitting in front of her computer, and was taken very much by surprise when Woodrow appeared on her own screen as well.

  “Woodrow?!” She yelled with a smile—startled, but happy.

  “Fiona!” He replied

  “How are you doing this?” She asked, looking around her laptop as if he could be hiding behind it.

  The electronic voice interrupted the reunion. “Thirty seconds, Dr. Woody.”

  “What is going on?” Fiona asked. “How did you contact me?”

  “Fiona, listen to me, I did not do this. Some cyber group has hacked our systems and wants to show me how they can get to you.”

  The voice continued the countdown. “Twenty seconds, Dr. Woody.”

  “Is that someone with you? Where are you, I want to see you.” She asked.

  “No, they’re not with me. You can’t come see me. I was hiding out at Princeton University when it all went crazy. I am just outside campus right now, and I am safe.” Woodrow pleaded. “You need to stay out of New Jersey.”

  “I’m already here! Mr. Gold flew me in on his jet. I’m here in Cape May.”

  The voice: “Ten seconds, Dr. Woody.”

  Woodrow furrowed at the screen. “Listen Fiona, please stay safe, I need to take care of something, it will explain everything in time, but please believe me, it will...”

  “One second left.”

  Fiona and Woodrow each reached forward and touched their respective computer screens.

  The screens went blank.

  Woodrow’s display changed back to the man in the rubber cow head. “That was nice.”

  “Go to hell,” Woodrow snapped, his eyes welling with tears.

  “I will assume you have agreed our arrangement,” The voice said smugly. “By the way, while you were having that little reunion with your girlfriend, we tapped into another laptop in the house you are occupying. Seems your tubby security guard friend also found a laptop in the house.”

  The screen showed a video streaming live from Smoothie’s laptop. He was sitting in what appeared to be a home office inside the same house, and he was staring intently at whatever was on his screen, oblivious that he was being viewed in real time.

  The voice said, “Can you believe this guy got online and did not attempt to view one single news site? No CNN, no Whitehouse.gov. All this guy has done since he accessed the web is view porn. He didn’t even try to check email. Just porn, porn, porn. Perhaps this country deserves what’s happening to it.”

  Smoothie stood up and started to unbuckle his pants.

  “Whoa!” The voice said and the screen switched back to the rubber cow head. “That would be something we couldn’t un-see.” The rubber cow head turned its attention back to Woodrow. “So, Dr. Woody, find the Colonel’s laptop, turn it on, and double-click the icon marked ‘Broadcast.’ It will start broadcasting the laptop’s webcam to all major news networks and websites. Once you hit it, we will also have access to his system, and we will stream the video from the FEMA camps’ security cameras. You can tell the world whatever you want, as you too will be broadcasting. Tell them what they are seeing, and how the virus will soon be unleashed around the country, so that the PCRC will have to come in and take over their states as well. We expose them, and then we will leave you and your girlfriend to live happily ever after.”

  Woodrow did not respond. He let out a sigh and hung his head, nodding it slightly to acknowledge the voice.

  While not visible, Woodrow had a feeling the person in the cow head was smiling. “Start the movement, spread the word, be the spark, the influencer you always wanted to be. Just get that damn laptop. You have until midnight.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Dr. Zed here with your Infected Update Report.

  The social media app FaceChat found itself in the middle of a fight between free speech and human decency.

  We have seen planking, owling, and Tebowing. Well now, the new meme that has been taking over social media has become Skelfies. Skelfies are selfies taken by individuals posing with the most horrific looking Skell they could find.

  Plenty of people found this act abhorrent. FaceChat removed the posts and threatened action against future postings of Skelfies, citing their end user licensing agreement, which forbids posting photos of dead bodies.

  This decision led to a massive blowback from free speech advocates, who stated that there has been no determination that the Skells are, in fact, dead, and the official government stance is that these are infected peoples.

  Others said that if users were forbidden to post these pictures, then would it be a violation to post pictures of family members who are suffering from terminal cancer and AIDS? If Skells are simply people afflicted with a disease, then there should be no ban on posting pictures with them.

  FaceChat public relation
s floated the idea that posting photos of infected family members could be allowed, being the infected is a blood relative or spouse. The tech company and their community came to an agreement where photos of uninfected with Skells can be posted provided they do not show bare female breasts or imagery that could be considered insensitive to “protected groups.”

  What has been banned are photos and videos of “Skelfie Fails,” which are pictures and photos of people who attempted to take a Skelfie, only to find the infected was not as docile as they anticipated, and were bitten, killed, or consumed as a result of these actions.

  Even for the internet, that’s just a bit much.

  CHAPTER 13

  Dr. Woodrow Coleman walked past the lounging soldiers who had made themselves at home and spread themselves out about the house. Some played video games they had found, others flipped through magazines or seemed lost in thought. A few had positioned themselves at the windows, serving as lookouts. In the other houses on the cul-de-sac were more soldiers who had followed the colonel. They were lounging around as well, waiting for his next command, his next move.

  Woodrow found Colonel Tindall sitting alone at the table in the formal dining room of the house. Tindall was flipping through the small bible he always carried with him in his uniform pocket.

  “Colonel Tindall, what are your plans?” Woodrow asked.

  “Only God has a plan for us.” Was the disinterested response. He may as well have said, “How the hell should I know.”

  “Ooookaaayy, but what do you plan to do?” Woodrow rephrased the question. “We can’t all stay in this house forever. Eventually, either the authorities will find us, or the family will come home.”

  “Do you believe this is judgment day, son?” the colonel asked, taking the conversation in a different direction.

  Woodrow gave a weak laugh. “No, I don’t believe God or judgment have anything to do with this. I know this is a virus. A bad one, but no different than SARS, or Bird Flu or AIDS, and it will be tackled and cured.”

  Col. Tindall locked his eyes onto Woodrow’s. “My little girl is with my sister right now. I got her out of the state in time. My wife had been bitten when we stopped for gas on the way. Once she was bitten, she knew what was going to happen to her. As soon as we made it out of state, we said our goodbyes to our daughter, as my wife had chosen to come back with me, in case I could find a so-called cure.”

  Woodrow tried to comfort the soldier. “We will find a cure, sir.”

  Tindall shot back: “How do you find a cure for death?”

  “Well, death is a complex issue, finding a cure for death would be like creating a new form of life. I don’t believe it is our role to create life.”

  Tindall said, “Maybe we already have. Maybe these things are a new form of life. Life different that we know it.”

  Woodrow stayed silent, not sure where this conversation was going.

  Tindall frowned. “My daughter has Batten Disease. Do you know what that is?”

  Woodrow had studied the brain disintegrating sickness in college. “I do.”

  “She will not live to see her next birthday.”

  Woodrow looked to his feet. “Sir, I am sorry to hear that.”

  “She’s dead, she doesn’t know it yet, but she is. She’s still walking around, just like these freaks out on the street. What is the difference between them and her?”

  Woodrow stood silent.

  Tindall sniffed. Exasperation on his face. “What do you want Dr. Coleman? Why are you here?”

  Woodrow said, “I believe I can fix this. I believe that for even those who we can’t cure, they should still be treated humanely. I know what the PCRC are doing to these things, these people. I know they are not housing them for a cure. They are exterminating them. Suffocating them, dismembering them, and incinerating them, all while the public thinks their loved ones they are being cared for until a cure is found.”

  Tindall shrugged. “Very little I can do about that right now.”

  “All I need is your government laptop and I can expose this. You would not want your daughter or your wife treated this way. Let me expose this so we can put a stop to it.”

  Tindall reached into his rucksack on the ground and retrieved the rugged laptop. “I was planning on destroying it anyway. As soon as I turn it on, it can be tracked, so it’s no good to me. I am taking my remaining men. I know of some property where we can all hole up, regroup, and figure out our next steps. You can come with me if you want, as well as your two friends. But I am not telling you where we are going, so you have to make your choice now. Once we leave, if you stay behind, you’re on your own—you won’t see us again.”

  “Thank you, sir, I will leave it to Moz and Jack if they want to go with you, but I can’t. I have someone I need to find.”

  Colonel Tindall nodded. “You need to wait at least one hour after I leave before you turn on that laptop. Once you turn it on, you will be located, and the PCRC forces will be here in minutes. You’ll probably be arrested.”

  Woodrow returned the nod. “That’s okay, I have some friends in high places. I need to get to them anyway, and this is the fastest way to make that happen. Oh, and colonel, one last thing: I need you to provide any password I need to access the laptop.”

  “Number one, Jesus saves.”

  “Um, that’s fine, sir, but as I was asking—”

  “That is my password, the number one, followed by jesussaves, as one word, with a capitol J. I don’t mind sharing it with you. I won’t be using that password again.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Following Mr. Spencer’s departure from President Callahan’s office, Patrick and Daniel sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. Daniel looked at Patrick, Patrick looked at the closed door that Spencer and Dr. Reynolds just exited through as if he were trying to remotely view the man as he entered Maxwell Gold’s office. Would his briefing to Maxwell be identical as the one had had just given to the president? Patrick would like to be a fly on the wall, or at least have some sort of listening device hidden in Maxwell’s desk.

  Patrick was experiencing more thoughts like these. He assured himself that it’s not really paranoia if they truly are out to get you.

  As if a switch was flipped, Patrick returned to his body and focused on Daniel. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “I’m glad you’re alive. We lost a lot of people.”

  Daniel looked around at the surrounding phalanx of guards. “Can we have some privacy?”

  “Unfortunately, no. They never leave me. They’re like gun-toting herpes.”

  Daniel sneered a little. “They working for Max?”

  “We all work for Max now. All of us,” Patrick responded. He implied that “all” meant everyone beyond those in the room, and perhaps those in the building. “Besides, they just heard me get briefed on the zombie apocalypse and the dismantling of the United States, physically and figuratively. So there is nothing you and I have to discuss that’s worse than that.”

  “You wear the crown now, pal,” Daniel said with a small frown.

  “Things are moving quickly. Yesterday, I signed an urgent needs contract with the PCRC to handle all security efforts during stability operations here in New Jersey. They will be handling everything from rubble removal to law enforcement to refugee management.”

  “Where’s your family?”

  Patrick’s weak smile went away. “They’re safe, they’re out of state, in an undisclosed location, and under...24-hour observation.” His words hinted that the guard was not necessarily for their protection, but possibly to ensure his obedience. “Speaking of family, your brother James was in here earlier today.”

  Daniel’s response was fast and vicious: “Fuck him, that asshole!”

  Patrick’s smile returned. “He had the same thing to say about you. I guess it runs in the family.”

  “If I ever see him again, I’m putting a bullet in his head,” Daniel said, standing up from his chair.

  “Yo
u and I both know that’s not going to happen. You Sullivans have to stick together, no one else can handle being around all of you.”

  Daniel growled. “Bullshit! This isn’t some fight over a girl. our brother’s dead and it’s his fault.”

  “I heard about Gerald, I’m truly sorry. But Jimmy had nothing to do with that. Neither did Max. Jimmy was devastated. It really messed him up when he heard. He’s broken, and I don’t know if there is a fix. He’s a guy who’s been through a lot, seen a lot of death. Losing Gerald seemed to put him over the edge. We flew Fiona in and he’s staying with her here in the hotel, or uh... Whatever you call this place now.”

  Daniel leaned forward in his chair. “So who were they?”

  “Those guys who went to collect Ivan were not working for Max,” Patrick assured.

  “Then who?” Daniel countered. “If they weren’t working for the corporation, who the hell were they working for?”

  “The competition,” Patrick responded in a matter of fact tone that rubbed Daniel the wrong way. “I know this is hard to get your mind around, but this was not much more than an industrial accident. Things were not supposed to go down like this. I don’t know the full story, but I know what I’ve been told over the past two weeks or so, and while it seems crazy, I have no reason to believe it’s a lie. I can’t tell you much more. Not right now,” Patrick said with a quick eye shift towards a phone on the desk.

  Daniel realized that somebody within the corporation was probably listening in to this entire conversation. He knew Patrick’s family was leverage, and no prodding or threatening was going to make Patrick spill the beans at the moment. “So why am I here, Mr. President?” Daniel said with a condescending tone.

  “Because we have some loose ends. Ivan is still out there and we need to either find him, or find what remains of him. The competition is still looking for him. Max needs to know that he’s safe.”